For the Love of a Pirate
by Rusty And The Rubix Horse
Summary: DMC spoilers! A JackElizabeth romance, combined with an interesting plot and Orlando Bloom. What more could you want? Rated for future chapters. Please RR!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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Elizabeth Swan stood by the railing of the great ship. It had been nearly a year since she had been at sea, but her love for the sense of freedom it imposed hadn't faded a bit. Behind them, the foggy image of Port Royal was gradually diminishing, along with everything she had ever known. Up above in the crow's nest, a scruffy looking man stood with a telescope, looking ahead. At the wheel, the form of Captain Jack Sparrow could be seen, one hand upon the mahogany wood, and the other holding a bottle of rum.

The young woman turned away from the entrancing blue of the ocean after a moment, disappearing below deck. A man by the name of William Turner was to be found lying in a rat-gnawed hammock, which had been strung up casually between two rotting support poles. He opened one eye to see who had entered, but upon realizing that he as in Elizabeth's presence, closed it again. She dipped her head slightly and sighed before taking a seat on a nearby rum barrel.

"I'm sorry Will," she said simply, but he made no move to acknowledge her apology. "It's nothing done wrong on your part, only on mine." Still he remained silent, and afraid to say more, Elizabeth stood and made her way to her stateroom.

Quite suddenly, a rough hand covered her mouth and another firmly held her by the shoulder, and she couldn't move.

"Now, now, love," came a familiar voice. "What are ye doing down below on such a fine sailing day?" The hand released her mouth, and she spun around to see Jack Sparrow give her his infamous drunken smile.

"Tell me Captain Sparrow," she began with as straight a face as she could manage. "Are you ever going to take into consideration your personal hygiene? You smell of rum."

The Captain released her shoulder, taking a step backward. He put on an expression of deep thought, and then held up a finger, grinning widely.

"Pirate, love."

Elizabeth shook her head, pushing past him and moving up the steps to the upper deck. Without the troubles of formal women's attire, she was able to do so quickly, shoes clicking loudly on the hard wooden floor of the _Balinor_. Once on deck, she returned to her post by the rail. She almost considered jumping overboard and swimming back to Port Royal, but her fear of heights prevented her from doing so. Her relationship with Will had been suffering ever since the sinking of the _Black Pearl_, and she was quite sick of it.

True, she loved Will, but ever since Jack had given her that god-forsaken compass, she had been having second thoughts about marrying him. She had told herself on numerous occasions that these were not just the usual pre-wedding jitters. Something else was at work here, although she still wasn't quite certain what it was. When Jack had been swallowed up by the Kraken, Elizabeth had planned on being able to move on, and had expected her feelings for Will to return--but they did not. The visit with Tia Dalma had been when Will too had realized that he and Elizabeth would never be; that she was in love with not him, but Jack. But because of his intense longing to see her happy, Will had agreed to help bring Jack back to her.

And so they had. Until recently however, Elizabeth had been doing her best to avoid the estranged Captain Sparrow, despite the fact that she was certain she held feelings for him. Perhaps she was in denial. Perhaps that one kiss on the deck of the doomed _Black Pearl_ had only been meant as a goodbye, and nothing more.

She had never doubted anything more in her life.

"My keen intuition on the female species tells me you are troubled," came the Captain's voice from behind her just mere moments later. He took a swig from yet another bottle of rum, and then offered her some.

"Bloody pirates," Elizabeth said as she snatched the bottle from his hand and gulped some down. Jack gave her a toothy grin.

"If you hate us so, why then, may I ask, did you _willingly_ board this vessel?"

"I needed to find—"

"Freedom?" he finished for her, while taking the bottle of rum, which was now nearly empty. What was left of the red colored liquid sloshed angrily in the bottom of its glass prison, as Jack continued to speak. "Why don't you come with me—I got something t' show you."

Curious, Elizabeth followed as the Captain tripped his way towards the stern of the ship. He stepped up to the wheel, motioning for Elizabeth to take it.

The wood was smooth beneath her touch. It's deep mahogany coloring reflected the sunlight, giving it the appearance of being covered in a thick layer of gloss. Gazing out before her, the calm blue waters of the Caribbean were beckoning her forward, unscathed and replete with the glitter-like refractions of the high-risen sun. The comfortably warm air, which blew in from the southwest, smelled of salt and sea. It was bliss.

"Ever felt freedom, love?" he asked.

"I can't be certain of that Captain Sparrow," she answered, turning the wheel slightly. She had almost forgotten he was present beside her.

"This is what freedom feels like. Standing here, you're in control of ever'thing. Y' can go anywhere you please, anytime you want, without a worry. Nothing's between you and your destination, and if something does come about, you can always pick another route."

"What's this? A poet hidden beneath the hardened exterior?" Elizabeth asked with a chuckle. She had thought the Captain many things, but deep had never been among them.

"Actually m'dear, I'm not only a poet, but a lyricist as well," Jack replied. He made a strange face. "But you'll live a longer, happier life by not hearing my songs."

The young woman smiled, her hands still resting on the wheel. It felt as if it had been molded and conformed for her hands in particular; no one else's hands would ever feel so at home so long as they were placed on the wheel of the _Balinor_. After a few minutes longer of sweet relaxation, Elizabeth reluctantly renounced her own version of freedom. The winds had changed, and Jack appeared worried.

"Storm's to be blowin' in soon," he muttered, more to himself than to Elizabeth, as he took hold of the wheel and steered them in the direction the wind was moving towards. He raised a hand into the wind, and in the distance, albeit faintly, Elizabeth was able to make out the sight of gathering storm clouds. "Get me that there telescope, love." He gestured to his left.

Elizabeth retrieved the telescope, and Jack peered through it. He was not looking in the direction of the storm, however.

"Mr. Gibbs!" the Captain shouted gruffly, snapping the telescope back to its original length. A stocky man appeared before them not moments later.

"Aye, Cap'n?"

"Round up the crew. We may have trouble heading this way."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Gee, what a surprise—still not mine. And just a random thought: has anyone noticed that Elizabeth _Swan_ and Jack _Sparrow's_ last names are both birds? Maybe they were meant for each other after all.

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Elizabeth couldn't help but notice that the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow appeared much more than just concerned, as the man named Gibbs set off to alert the crew. It wasn't often his face was seen to be actually, truly _serious_, as it clearly was at that moment. He adjusted his hat, and then squinted into the telescope for a second time. From what Elizabeth could see with her unaided eyes, there appeared to be some sort of great fire on the open waters, and a large, dark ship close by it.

"What is it?" she inquired, a gust of wind blowing her hair into her face.

"Not quite sure of that, lass," Jack replied, scrunching the telescope back up and never removing his eyes from the scene. "Looks to be a ship that's on fire, but given the fact there's a second ship, this Captain has reason to believe there was a disagreement among the two." He took a dizzy step away from the wheel, then seemed to think better of it, and returned to his post.

"A _disagreement_?" came another voice. It was Will, stepping up to them, and snatching the telescope from Jack. "Seems like there was much more than just a _disagreement_." His eyes fell on Elizabeth's, and lingered on her for a moment, until she looked away, uncomfortable under his gaze. She resented the fact that she felt this way when she was around him now. There had been a point in time when she would have done nearly anything to be lost in those honey swirled eyes of his, but now…well…let's just say that dark eyes intrigued her more. She felt her face heating up at the thought of laying with Jack at her side, staring into his eyes as if there were no tomorrow, his lips on hers…

_Elizabeth Swan!_ she scolded herself, scurrying down to where she was certain her rapidly reddening face would not be seen. _What on earth has gotten into you? He's a Pirate, and father would never approve of your falling for him!_

She pulled the compass out of her pocket, reluctant to open it. But whether it was from fear of it pointing in an unwanted direction, or _not _pointing in that same direction, she was unsure. Will Turner left the quarterdeck, obviously ordered to do so by the Captain, and a moment later Elizabeth opened the compass. It quivered for a brief moment, and then spun about crazily for another, and finally came to rest with the large red arrow pointing directly at the man known as Captain Jack Sparrow.

Elizabeth snapped the compass shut, with a sound of great frustration. This could _not _be happening to her. The wind blew stronger, and her long bronze curls were swept into her face yet again. More often than not she had considered just chopping off the majority of her hair. It was an annoyance while at sea; with water and wind and other elements making it a nuisance to keep it brushed out. However, it was the one part of her, which reminded her of the life she had once lived, and despite the fact that she had hated it so, she wanted at least one way to remember that she hadn't always been a pirate.

Wait—_what?_

"Pardon me Elizabeth, but could you do us a favor and make use of this infinitely unique and entirely accessible object?" Jack's voice sang out from nearby, as he handed her a tie. "It's positively frustrating seeing the wind take control of that hair of yours, and you and I both would prefer that I wasn't forced to brush it out of the way myself." He gave her a slight grin, and then set off to whatever business it was he had come down to take care of.

_Oh, if only you knew, Captain Sparrow_, she thought with a groan. She watched as he climbed up the mast to the crow's nest, and found herself quite amazed by the fact that with his constant lack of coordination--courtesy of far too many bottles of rum--he was indeed able to reach the lookout's post.

As they neared the two ships, it was very clear that there had been an attack. Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder why they were sailing directly into the line of possible attack—Jack had already lost one ship to another captain's anger, after all.

"Captain!" a desperate voice shouted from somewhere on the ship, and Jack spun around in a wobbly fashion.

"Aye?" he yelled down, to where a crewman was standing, breathing heavily.

"It's—It's the _Lochinvar_, sir! Condos' ship! 'e must've gotten out before that last skirmish got serious!" the man proclaimed from below.

Jack's eyes widened considerably, as he turned around and pulled the telescope out of the lookout's hands, and looked through it.

"Oh, bugger."

The pirate scurried back down from the crow's nest, stopping and looking around for a moment. "You!" he cried, exaggerating a desperate expression as he ran up to and grabbed Elizabeth by the shoulders. "Below deck!" He pushed her away, mumbling that she needed to hide, and hide well. "And stay away from the rum!" he called, holding up a finger as she shook her head and trotted down to the lower deck.

In the distance, a boom sounded, and a large cannonball quite suddenly flew past Jack's running form, making him screech to a dead halt as it missed him, as well as any part of the ship, by mere centimeters. Will appeared by his side a moment later.

"Shall we return fire Jack?" Will asked hurriedly, with a gesture to the splash left from the cannonball. The Captain's face sagged dramatically as another boom was heard; another fire from the _Lochinvar_.

"Well, this is going to be fun," he muttered to himself, and then, "Aye! Return fire and hard to port!" He took off to where Gibbs stood at the wheel.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I just wanted to thank all my lovely reviewers! I never expected to get so many reviews in only a day! I believe this chapter is a bit longer than the others, although I can't be sure. I apologize if these chapters have seemed a bit boring, but they are entirely necessary to get the plot moving. The next chapter will have some Jack and Elizabeth tender moments, I quite expect, so beware! Mwaha. I hope you like this most recent update, and as always, review if you want me to continue!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own nothing.

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The battle hadn't lasted long. In the end, the _Balinor _has sustained little damage, with the exception of a few large holes in the upper levels of the ship. The _Lochinvar_, on the other hand, was crippled, but still afloat. Its crew had been surprisingly small in number, seven aboard, including Captain Condos himself. This, in combination with a lack of ammunition, had lost Condos his ship. He and the rest of his crew were currently bound with their wrists behind their backs, and strapped to various places about the _Balinor_. Jack took great enjoyment in the fact that he now laid claim to not one ship, but two.

And the _Lochinvar_ was not just any ship. While the _Pearl_ may have been known for being the fastest ship in the Caribbean, the _Lochinvar_ was said to be among the fastest in the _world_. It was also incredibly large, and well furnished and decorated—or at least, it had been before Jack and those aboard the _Balinor_ had launched their counterattack.

Nothing remained of the ship that had been on fire, save for a small section of the main mast and a great amount of thick, dark smoke. Condos had informed Jack that it had at one point been the _Dauntless_, but it was not until he had seen the shreds of a Royal Navy flag in the water that he had believed the other Captain. Former Captain, really.

"Cap'n?" Gibbs inquired from nearby to where Jack, Will, Elizabeth, and a few other crewmembers stood before the prisoners. "What're ye wishin' ter do about the _Lochinvar_? We can't well tow 'er back. She's too bloody big."

"The Royal Navy will be out scouring these waters for their ship once they realize she 'asn't made it to port," said another crewman. "And a ship like us towin' a ship like 'er 's goin' t'attract some 'tention."

The Captain thought for a moment, before smiling slyly.

"Gentleman! Milady," he added in, bowing slightly to Elizabeth. "I do believe we can make this work to our advantage." Those standing nearby exchanged confused glances. Whatever amount of intelligence Jack possessed had certainly not been what made him a pirate legend. His plans were far too often known for being senseless, thoughtless, and most importantly, dangerous. The bad part was that they were also known for being successful.

The man drew his sword from its casing, swinging it around in a lazy pattern, as if it were a harmless piece of rope, while taking several large steps in a circle, and stopping. His decorated black hair shifted gently in the wind, the beads jangling carelessly; the exposed flaps of his tattered red bandana following a similar course of movement.

"As you can see," he began huskily, gesturing to the sorry sight that was the _Lochinvar_. "The _Lochinvar_ is in no condition to travel. And as Mr. Gibbs and Mr. Ragetti have so kindly informed us, towing a ship as noticeable as that one…well, we might as well hang ourselves now, if that be the case. So, my good men—and lady—we will be dividing our crew, with the majority going to the _Lochinvar_."

A murmur of displeasure rippled its way through the group.

"Cap'n, is it really necessary that we take both ships?" asked a voice.  
"Aye, sir, we've already got a decen' ship under us," Gibbs agreed. "Why we be needin' the trouble of a second ship, and a sore one at that?"

Jack furrowed his brow, deep in thought.

"Because, Mr. Gibbs," the pirate replied after a moment, his face lighting up in the way only his own was capable of. "A second ship presents us 'ere with a backup in case we're ev'r attacked on either one 'f 'em, another place to keep our treasures, and above all, it undeniably gives the legendary _Captain_ Jack Sparrow a better reputation as a threat! An' another one is just more fun. Savvy?" He grinned, gold teeth glinting craftily in the light.

"Aye sir," Gibbs nodded, smiling despite the fact that he disagreed with the Captain.

"Mr. Turner!" Jack cried sternly, and William appeared before him. "Congrats m'lad, ye've been elected Captain of the _Lochinvar_."

Will's face took up an expression of utmost shock, and more than likely, concern.

"You want me to man a broken ship?" he asked disbelievingly.

Jack took him by the shoulders and brought him to the edge of the deck, the two focusing on the dark form of the _Lochinvar_.

"She ain't _broken_, lad. She's merely bent out'r shape a tad bit. Nothin' a smart boy like you can't 'andle, eh men?" There were a few words of agreement from the crewmen. "An' besides, we can't right well leave 'er behind, now, can we?"

Will raised an eyebrow at him.

"What about the code? _'Any man who falls behind, is left behind.'"_

"Ah, that's where yer wrong, me boy," the Captain responded swiftly. "You see, the _Lochinvar_ is, in fact, _not_ a man, in more ways than one, mate. She ain't no human being, y'see, but we refer t'er as if she were one. However, what you fail to realize 'ere is'at we are _actually_ referring to 'er as if she were a _woman_. The code don't say nothin' about leavin' any women behind, now, does it Mr. Turner?" His eyes were narrowed as he waited for a response.

"Very well," the younger man said finally, with a note of reluctance in his tone, and then gestured to the crew. "But what of them? Who will serve as my crew? And the ship will need repairs before it can sail, I presume." His gaze landed on Elizabeth quite suddenly. She didn't seem to have realized at first, but after another moment, her eyes widened briefly and she looked away fiercely. Will shook his head as Jack strode off to stand before his crew.

"Which of you men wish to be under the command of young Mr. Turner, over here?" he demanded in a rough voice, stamping the pointed tip of his sword on the solid deck below him. The crewmen exchanged glances for the second time, and then took a moment to discuss amongst themselves, before about nine stepped forward. "Oh good, you actually went without a fuss!" Jack bumbled cheerfully, waving his empty hand about in a drunken manner, as he slipped the sword back into its sheath. Will's new crew moved to stand nearby to him, as some of the remaining crewmembers strung ropes by which they could board the other vessel.

Will stood still for a moment, his eyes suddenly locked on Elizabeth's. It appeared as if he hadn't planned on having to leave the _Balinor_, which of course, he hadn't. What seemed to shock him more was the fact that he knew she wouldn't be joining him now that he _did_ have to leave. True, she had apologized to him, but what she had done simply could not be reversed. And so it was with a heavy heart, and a tightening hold on the rope by which he would swing onto the _Lochinvar_, that Will pronounced what he was truly thinking.

"I can see you'd rather stay here with your _beloved_ Captain," he spat sourly, before jumping off the deck and swinging to the deck of the ship, which rested alongside.

Jack stared after him for a long moment, before turning around with wide and questioning eyes to gaze at Elizabeth. She could do nothing but shake her head apologetically.

"Take the prisoners down to their cells!" Jack ordered of the remaining crew, who did so immediately, scurrying about in order to be certain no prisoners were able to escape. And then, without another word, Captain Sparrow walked directly past Elizabeth, and disappeared below deck,while another crewman took control of the quarterdeck.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Here's yet another chapter for you all! Over 1400 hits in two days! You guys are awesome! I shall most likely be posting another chapter, possibly two, before I leave for a two week vacation on Sunday. I will be working on this story while on vaca, but I will not be able to post any new chapters until I return. I will however try to get several done, so that when I do post again, there will be more than just one new one. I hope you enjoy this chapter! It took me forever to get just right.

Disclaimer: You know it's not mine.

Elizabeth lay on her bed later that evening, enjoying the peace and quiet of her stateroom. It was surprisingly roomy, considering the fact that the ship was not at all built luxuriously. There was a small bookcase against one wall, and a nightstand built of a wood, which matched the same deep mahogany of the _Balinor's_ helm. Upon it was set a silver frame, which surrounded a portrait of the _Pearl_. She wasn't sure why she had wanted such a painting done for her, and if her father had ever discovered it, he would have been most displeased. However, it had served the purpose of keeping the existence of such a famous ship alive, even now that it was gone.

Her thoughts strayed to what had happened on the boat deck earlier that day. Will's cold words were still running through her head, as if they were freshly spoken. She couldn't for the life of her determine why it was she felt guilty. She had always raised herself on the belief that love was love, and nothing could change the way she felt. If she didn't love Will in the way he wanted her to, then so be it. They would both be happier without the other, in the long run. Will would find a woman to settle down with, one that truly loved him, more than just caring for him. And Elizabeth…well, she wasn't certain just what her future held, but she was positive that everything would eventually work out for the best.

And as for Jack Sparrow…she could never tell with him. At first it had appeared that he were going to question her, after hearing Will's comment, but he had instead left quickly. Fled, almost. His actions both intrigued, and worried her. After all, he was a man who's 'first and only love' was the sea, and she couldn't expect any more than that from him. But the idea that he had fled her presence gave her other impressions. Maybe there was a slim chance he cared for her, more than he should have. Or perhaps it was only that he fled out of sheer embarrassment. He was entitled, considering Elizabeth was sure she had blushed when he looked at her.

Her musings were cut short by a knock at her door, which startled her. She instinctively pulled the bed sheets over herself, for she was wearing only a nightgown, and a rather exposing one, at that.

"Come in," she called, and a young boy, who looked to be no more than fourteen years of age, opened the door.

"The Captain has requested to see you in his private quarters," the lad informed her, giving a low bow. "If yer not too tired, ma'am," he added.

Elizabeth smiled thinly.

"No, no, I'll be there. But will you please inform the Captain that I'll need a moment to change into some more…er…_appropriate_ attire?" she asked.

"Of course, ma'am." The boy set off to deliver the message.

Sighing, Elizabeth swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. She decided to fish out some semi-womanly clothing, rather than the men's clothing she had grown accustomed to wearing nowadays. She found a particularly flattering blue dress, which she had worn only for casual matters around her home back in Port Royal. Her mind was whispering at her to put the blue dress away and pick something less…seductive. Yet another part of her reminded her that her father had picked the dress out especially for when she needed to appear formal, and not prostitute-like. Not that she _had_ appeared prostitute-like.

Ignoring the more annoying part of her conscience, she slipped on the blue dress, and a pair of shoes, and started off for the Captain's quarters. She hadn't the slightest idea what his intentions might have been, calling her there that night, but she wasn't about to let the chance to explain herself—and Will—slip through her fingers. She made her way down the narrow, forgotten hallway until she reached a room, which she presumed to be the correct one, judging by the décor surrounding the doorframe. A continuous silver vine weaved its way around the door, dodging curiously in and out of the wood every so often, like a serpent in water. She raised her hand to knock on the door, just as a figure pulled it open.

"I heard you coming," the form of Jack Sparrow stated simply, and motioned her inside. Elizabeth nodded and walked by him. She had never been into his private quarters, on any of his ships. She heard him close the door behind him, and whirled around, but not so quickly as to rouse suspicion. He was a good man—he wouldn't try anything. And besides, she doubted he felt anything for her anyway.

Jack pulled up a chair for her, while he remained standing. Elizabeth tucked her leg underneath the other in a ladylike fashion, and waited for the man before her to speak. His kohl-lined eyes were downcast, as if in thought, and she studied him from afar. He may not have held the appearance of a respectable Englishman, but there was no doubt that the Captain had a handsomeness about himself that was his, and his alone. She shifted slightly, still examining him, when he looked up and quite suddenly locked eyes with her, black to brown.

"There's somethin' I been meanin' t' ask you, Miss Swan," he began when she had pulled her eyes away uncomfortably.

Oh, so he was back to formalities now, was he? Elizabeth looked up anxiously.

"And just what might that be, Captain Sparrow?" she inquired with a quizzical expression.

He paused, fingering the braided sections of his beard. After a moment, he focused his attention back on her.

"I'm inclined to inquire as t' just why ye didn' get on that ship with Mr. Turner."

Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat. Jack looked at her expectantly, but seeing she wasn't going to answer right away, gave a dramatic roll of his eyes before sitting down in another nearby chair. He withdrew his pistol from its holder, and fiddled with it, until the woman across from him finally saw fit to answer his question.

"I—I would have thought that was obvious, Captain Sparrow," she forced herself to say, trying to keep her voice from quaking, as she knew it had.

"Ah, but in what manner of speakin' do you mean this by, love?"

She thought quickly, before snapping, "Not in the manner you think it is being spoken in. Will and I merely are finding ourselves on bad terms, at the present time."

His dark eyes narrowed as he surveyed her, and stood up, Elizabeth doing the same. She moved towards the door, and turned the knob. She would have opened it had another hand not covered her own, and stopped her from doing so. Turning around, she found that Jack was holding tightly to her wrist, and their faces were extremely close to one another. They had had run-ins like this in the past, but this one was somehow different.

"And in what manner of speakin' is it ye think I'm thinkin' it be?" the dark eyed man in a low voice, grinning slyly. "'Cause you might be su'prised what it is I 'appen t' be thinkin'."

Elizabeth stared him straight in the eye, quickly losing any interest in leaving the room. She started to speak, but he put a finger against her lips to stop her. His free hand rested against her neck, and she shuddered slightly as he ran it down her shoulder, and the length of her arm. He smiled devilishly and grazed his lips across hers.

"Ye be tremblin', love," he whispered roguishly, pulling back a bit.

"Can't quite help that, Captain Sparrow," Elizabeth breathed, knowing full well what was going to happen, but unable to prevent it. Jack grinned, and closed his mouth over her own. The kiss was not gentle, by any terms, but neither was it harsh. Elizabeth, having only ever kissed Will, was not prepared for the surge of emotion Jack's kiss brought about. She was more accustomed to Will's soft and calculated way of going, but Jack was different. There was something about the way he went about kissing her, that would have made her smile, had her mouth not been busy with…other things.

He pressed her up against the door, his hands roaming freely, unashamedly over her slim form. Elizabeth attempted to move, for the hard wood of the door was cold and uncomfortable against her back, but Jack was much stronger than she, and held her in place. _Pirate_, she could almost hear him say in his sing-song voice. They were finally forced to break apart, for lack of oxygen, and it was only then that the full force of what had just transpired between them came crashing down on them both. Except neither of them much cared.

Jack rested his forehead against the young woman's, as she caught her breath.

"Sorry for catching you off guard, lass," the Captain voiced, grinning. "Caught meself off guard 's well," he added with a frown.

Elizabeth took the opportunity to slip away from the door, and then turned to face the man, the _pirate_, whom she had most definitely just fallen for. For a long moment they simply gazed at one another, the silence enveloped in a thick blanket of tension and nerves.

"An' sorry fer hurtin' your back, there," Jack said genuinely, breaking the silence. "Got a bit carried away, I s'pose." His dark eyes looked right through her, knew that she was craving more. She said nothing as he stepped forward and again locked her in a passionate kiss, and moved her to his bed. He lay down atop her, continuing his barrage of now softening kisses. He felt her tense as his left hand reached her naval, and he smiled against her lips.

"Not tonight love," the man whispered softly in her ear, still smiling. He gave her another peck on the lips. "Just tryin' t' make certain I 'ad kissed ye with somethin' soft behind you. You've nothin' to fret about." He moved to lay beside her, but not before slipping his boots off. Elizabeth started to stand up, prepared to leave, but Jack pulled her back down. "You ain't goin' nowhere, darlin'."

"Oh really?" she replied with an eyebrow cocked. "I suspect it will be greatly questioned if we were to spend the night in the same cabin, Captain Sparrow."

"Aye. But that's the fun o' it love. Come now, get those ruddy things off yer feet, and get over 'ere." His expression was one of mock seriousness.

"I'm sorry Captain, but I really should go. For both our sake." She nodded to signify that her statement was final, and then left the room, closing the door gently behind her. Once in her own room, Elizabeth Swan did something she hadn't done since the day her mother passed away: she cried.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: 2,252 hits in three days. This is crazy. You guys are absolutely wonderful, with all your reviews, and what not, but it would be nice if some of you who are reading and not reviewing _did_ review. I always like input on how to make the story better. I'm a bit worried about how Jack's character came out in this chapter, so you guys will have to let me know what you think. And yes, I realize I haven't quite got the plot moving yet, and I realize also that I have not explained the reasons for Elizabeth's breakdown. They will come soon enough, so be patient. I am hoping to get one more chapter up before I leave tomorrow, but not guarantees. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Boo. I might cry.

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A few hours before dawn, the _Balinor_ lurched violently, and suddenly, and Jack was sent sprawling off his bed and onto the hard wooden floor. He grunted and sat up, shaking his head and then widening his eyes as he realized the ship was still listing heavily to her starboard side. He stood up, just as the floor swayed beneath him a second time, but leveled out. He dashed out of his cabin and up the stairs to the upper deck, looking comical in his nightshirt and socks. The wind and waves tossed the great ship about like a toy; the rain pelted down to the point of blinding anyone caught in it. Jack grabbed hold of something—he wasn't quite sure what—to steady himself and be certain he wasn't to be blown away.

Gibbs was standing at the helm, frantically gripping the wheel with both hands and trying desperately to keep the _Balinor_ on course—and afloat. He saw Jack at once, and called out to him as he tripped his way to the quarterdeck.

"I thought I was goin' t' lose 'er for a momen' there Cap'n!" he cried through the howling wind, as Jack took his place at the wheel. "The anchor's let lose an' we can't seem t' get 'er back up! And we should drop canvas sir! Already she's gettin' 'erself torn up!"

"Aye!" Jack growled through the rain. "Drop canvas, and do ever'thin' ye can to get those anchors up! Cut the chains, need be." He spun the wheel heavily to the port side, trying to face into the wind and waves. A ship facing sideways stood little chance of surviving a direct hit from a large wave. The crew raced around the ship, doing everything they could to help ensure the _Balinor's_ continued existence—as well as their own. It was one of the worst storms Jack had been faced with, in all his years at sea, and he found himself worried.

The waves were steadily increasing in size, and the wind seemed to be swirling them in a giant circle, so that the same wave appeared to hit the vessel multiple times. A particularly bright streak of lightening allowed Jack to see the faint outline of a dark ship far in the distance. He didn't immediately recognize it, but then, he hadn't the time or ability to look again. The _Balinor_ and the safety of his crew were his main concern, for the moment.

Suddenly, an extremely large wave slammed into the front of the _Balinor_, knocking her nose so high into the air that Jack very much believed she was going to topple over on herself. She groaned as her wooden skeleton struggled to maintain itself, the bottom tip of the main boom dipping into the unforgiving sea as she continued to rise. He lost his grip on the wheel as the wave came aboard and bashed him savagely against the railing separating the stern from the sea. The vessel shuddered for a moment, suspended in mid air, before the wave continued on its path and swept out from beneath her. The deck seemed to disappear below Jack as she plummeted down, still upright, and he made a mad grab for the wheel, which was spinning wildly.

At a glance, there didn't appear to have been any loss of life—something the Captain was grateful for. He couldn't stand to lose any of his crew, for without them, the ship was finished. The sea continued its relentless attempts to flip the _Balinor_, as another large, yet not as large as the previous wave, crashed into it from both the side and the bow. Jack tore off his headscarf, tying his hand to the wheel, a decision he knew was probably foolish, but he was useless if he wasn't in control of the ship. The water tried for the second time to wash him overboard, and topple the vessel, but for the second time, didn't succeed. He could hear the crewmen sputtering desperately on the main deck as they were submerged briefly.

"Blast you Neptune!" Jack cried aloud, his voice lost in the driving wind and rains. _Since when do I refer to Greek gods?_ his mind spat at him in the next instant, before he shook the rainwater from his eyes and forcing the wheel towards the starboard side. He quickly removed the scarf and placed it securely around his neck, before he turned back to port. The ship began to gyrate, just as the waters seemed to be doing, and Jack hoped that by moving with them the ship would avoid any further serious collisions.

He faintly heard Gibbs' voice calling, but he paid him no attention. The full force of his concentration was now entirely focused on keeping the ship in the swirling pattern he had entered her into. He thought he noticed a slight decrease in the amount of rain, but was unsure if it was only wishful thinking. But then, just as suddenly as it had started, the wind and the rain and the waves had vanished into the darkness, leaving the _Balinor_ gradually spinning to a dizzying stop.

Jack heaved a great sigh as relief swept over him, just as the waves had a few minutes before. The entire ordeal had lasted no longer than a half hour, but to Jack, time had seemed to have been stopped completely. His tired body sagged against the mahogany, and a moment later Gibbs and Cotton appeared by his side. Looking up into the relieved faces of the two men, Jack raised his eyebrows and stood up straight, tying the scarf around his head once more.

"Didn' much think we were goin' t' make it there, sir," Gibbs breathed, shaking his head with widened eyes. "We be forever indebted t' ye." Cotton nodded, his parrot squawked something incomprehensible, and Jack put his hands on his hips pridefully.

"'Aven't ye 'eard mates? I'm Captain Jack _Sparrow!_"

The men on deck gave a loud whoop, before being ordered to scour the entire ship for damage. Jack was suddenly visited by the thought of the _Lochinvar_, and the part of his crew that Will Turner now commanded. The ship he had seen during the storm, Jack mused, was not the _Lochinvar_. It had been far too small. A sailing vessel it was, and likely a pirate one at that, but most definitely not her. Now that he thought about it though, something about the ship did seem vaguely familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was just by memory. He would need to see the ship again. Jack glanced around quickly around, before motioning for another crewman to take the wheel. "Sail 'er towards that faint bit o' horizon o'er that way," he instructed the man, who nodded. "Keep a watchful eye out though—she can't take many more 'its from _anythin_'"

Without another word, the pirate left the quarterdeck, and a few moments later, found himself outside Elizabeth's stateroom. His hand fell on the knob, slightly afraid to open it for fear of what he might find, but then he decided to knock. The door quite suddenly burst open, just as he had been about to enter, and Elizabeth stood before him, looking very frightened indeed. Without a second thought, she threw her arms around him and held him so tightly that she was restricting his breathing abilities.

"Easy on the goods darling," Jack chuckled lightly, patting her comfortingly on the back and repeating a line spoken to her once before, but in a much less dangerous situation. The girl suddenly seemed to have realized just whom she was embracing so desperately, because she roughly shoved him away, backing into her room again. She turned her head away, but stayed where she now was. The man stepped forward and gripped her face in his palm, tilting her chin up so he could look her in the eye.

She didn't protest, much to both their surprise.

"Feelin' all righ' after that lit'le hop she did, love?" he questioned, referring to the _Balinor_.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him.

"Nothing has changed, you know," she says, trying to keep her mouth set in a firm line, but having a hard time doing so. Jack's other hand had found home at the base of her neck, but he pulled it away as she said this, taking a step back.

"Tell me," he began, smiling boldly. "What makes you think you were anythin' more t' me than any other women I e'er been with?"

She pulled her face away.

"I still love Will," she spat sourly. "And you'd do well to ignore any comments he might make about whatever it is he _thinks_ is going on between the two of us. As I informed you earlier, we are merely on bad terms, at the moment. Pre-marriage nerves, is all." Her fists were clenched and shaking, and her arms placed stiffly at her sides.

"Are you quite certain o' that, missy? Because if I did say so meself, I'd say you had somethin' much diff'rent on yer mind this night past."

"Wretch!" she cried, throwing her fists at him, but he caught them in an incredibly strong grip. She fought him, but he backed her up against the wall and pinned her there, his smile never wavering. He was rather enjoying the sight of Elizabeth Swan in a rage. Her face was flushed, her mouth clenched tightly shut, and her eyes dark. "You ruined _everything_," she whispered, hate weaved throughout the entire sentence.

"Pard'n me lass, but if I recall correctly, which I'm pretty sure I do, 'twas _you_ who kissed me that day on the _Pearl_. 'Twas _you_ who shackled me t' that mast. 'Twas _you_ who left me there t' die. And yes love, 'twas _you_ who sailed t' the end o' the earth to bring me back. So which one o' us was it _really_?" His eyes flashed dangerously, but still he continued smiling. Elizabeth tried to free herself, but she was no match for the pirate's almost superhuman strength. He brought his face in close to hers, so that she could smell the rum on his breath, as well as the scent of the sea that she had long ago noticed he always carried with him. His hand strayed down her side lightly, and she felt her knees go weak beneath her. She knew very well what he was trying to do, and she was infuriated with both him and herself that he was succeeding. "Seem familiar love?" the man asked her, his voice a note about a rough whisper.

"Damn you to the depths, Jack Sparrow," the woman rebuked in a low voice.

"Careful there, lassy," he warned, grazing his fingers back up her side in a deliberately slow and sensual manner. "Ye wouldn't want to be angerin' ol' Cap'n Jack, now."

Her eyes lifted to meet his, and she immediately found herself entirely swallowed up by the dark, ominous pools. He was _so_ close. His hold on her tightened as he ghosted his lips across hers, and then, abruptly, he released her.

"O' course ye don't! 'Cause when _Captain_ Jack Sparrow is angry, ever'thin's done 'is way. Now, I feel the time fit for a spot o' rum!" He swaggered away, arms out to his sides as if to keep his balance, and in a moment's time, he had vanished. Elizabeth sank to the ground, cursing. How is it that he could have such an effect on her? When she had first met him, it was anything but pleasant. Being held back against a man whom she did not know—a pirate—with a chain around her throat, was _not_ enjoyable. Still though, it had been the first time she had ever been so close to a man, any man, and she couldn't help but feel a slight rush as it had unfolded.

Jack Sparrow was dangerous, and this is what enthralled her so. He was everything she couldn't have, everything she _wouldn't_ have…and _everything_ she wanted.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Yay! I'm back! And with three new chapters written, and just waiting to be typed and posted! I'm so grateful for all your reviews—they are my inspiration. This chapter is a bit of a random plot twist, and I hope after reading it you won't all hate me and try to assassinate me. I'd like to live to continue this story.

Disclaimer: If only…

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"Seen anything yet m'boy?" Jack asked the crewman who was steering the ship, and gazing out at the sun which reflected off the calm waters.

"Nothin' yet, Cap'n. A couple o' the deckhands thought they mighta seen a ship way out yonder, but me sir, I ain't seen nothin'," he answered.

Jack looked steadily at the open waters. He was glad to see that there was no haze over the horizon. As determined as he was to find the ship he had seen during the storm, he couldn't help but be slightly wary. Numerous encounters with unfriendly vessels had taken their toll on his nerves. He wasn't afraid, by any means, but he was beginning to find that he was concerning himself more and more with the safety of a certain woman on board.

The pirate had always sworn to himself that he would never let a woman distract him from his responsibilities—if they could be considered such. Unfortunately, however, he had known since the day he had rescued Elizabeth from almost certain death by drowning, that it would be nearly impossible to leave her behind without a second thought. The capture of her had been particularly interesting, and was in fact what had allowed the infamous captain to realize that Elizabeth Swan was not at all like any other woman of her type. Whilest he had her trapped behind a cold chain and held that pistol to her temple, she had still managed to find the character to snap at him. She hadn't been afraid of the prospect of death, and this had intrigued him. Of course, he wouldn't have killed her anyway. He had only killed one female in all his years of piracy—a girl of about fifteen—and he hadn't enjoyed doing so. But it had needed to be done. She would have died either way; he simply chose to do it the less painful way.

The appearance of a sail on the horizon snapped Jack out of his muse. He leapt up to the helm, ordering the crewman down and full speed toward the target. There was a great shuffle aboard the ship as the sails were adjusted to push the ship to a higher speed. Jack's kohl lined eyes squinted before he took out his telescope and peered through it. Gibbs appeared next to him a moment later.

"What's got ye so int'rested out there Cap'n?" he asked, handing Jack an oddly shaped bottle of golden tinged rum.

Snatching the rum, he replied, "A ship, mate," and then took a long swallow. "I seen 'er before, and I'd like t' know where." He paused, with wide eyes, and then continued. "I imagine it'll have been Tortuga, but one can never be sure out here in the Caribbean."

Gibbs nodded, and went back down to the main deck too help the other crewmembers. Jack continued on the ship's course, humming merrily to himself as he stood.

"…And really bad eggs."

His eyes scanned the deck, admiring the crew he had put together. Each one a faithful man in himself, loyal to Jack, and caring of the welfare of the ship and its occupants. He looked toward the forecastle deck, and spotted Elizabeth's unmistakable form standing at the railing of the ship. He frowned as his eyes raked over her figure, which was outfitted in a thin white dress; she was ridiculously beautiful. He was focused so intently upon her, that it took him a moment to realize she had turned and was yelling desperately at him. Jack blinked, and shook his head.

"The _Lochinvar_, Jack! Bloody hell, she's right on top of us!" Elizabeth screamed. Her voice reached him, and he immediately wrenched the _Balinor_ to port.

"Let down the anchor men!" he shouted into the sudden panic. Grimacing, he closed his eyes as the form of the _Lochinvar_ came at them almost head on. William Turner stood at the helm, looking just as alarmed as Jack. Somehow, the two ships had been set on a collision course, and neither had seen the other until it was too late. "Hold onto your bums, gentlemen," Jack roared, and moments later a tremendous cracking and splintering sound was heard as the two vessels collided.

Elizabeth was almost thrown overboard as the _Balinor_'s prow impaled the portside of the _Lochinvar._ As it did, she saw Will be launched sideways and into the gaping wound in the _Lochinvar_'s hull. The _Balinor_ listed heavily to one side, and its nose dove a bit as a result of the other ship's mass. The _Lochinvar_, having already been damaged during battle, gave way and allowed the _Balinor_ to pass through an enormous section of its side without much damage.

At his ship's tilted position, Jack Sparrow stumbled sideways until he fell, screaming loudly and waving his arms on the way down. The ship was almost past the point of its central gravity. He grabbed onto a pulley and clung to it for dear life, looking down at the churning waters below him.

"No, no! Not good! Not good! My ship, my beautiful ship! Not good!"

The _Lochinvar_'s main mast suddenly snapped, falling onto the deck of the _Balinor_, and providing enough force to return the smaller ship to an upright position. The force also sent the _Lochinvar_ sprawling onto its side, the sounds of cracking wood uncomfortably evident.

As the _Balinor_ made its miraculous rebound, Jack caught sight of Will Turner, trapped and struggling to free himself from beneath the mast.

"Oh, really not good!" Jack cried to himself. His eyes darted around wildly, looking for something that might give him a chance to rescue Will. He saw not but a rope, which he could not reach. The forward mast of the _Lochinvar_ was failing, and in the moment before it gave way, he heard a panicked female voice cry the boy's name.

The beam fractured, and in what seemed to be slow motion, the mast and all it held crashed onto William Turner.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Nope.

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Jack saw Elizabeth fall to her knees as he got to his feet himself. The _Lochinvar_ was for the most part gone; all that remained was a large section of the hull, which was floating off to one side. He knew when that last piece sunk beneath the dark waters, and when he saw Elizabeth bury her face in her palms, that Will Turner would not be pulling off some miraculous escape. What had he done?

"Mr. Gibbs," Jack called, his voice low and resigned, and his first mate was there in an instant. "See to it that if Mr. Turner can be found, it is so." The Captain's face was grim as he stepped down from the helm and onto the main deck. The sound of a woman in anguish drifted toward him as he moved toward the bow of the _Balinor_. She wasn't crying, he realized as he came to stand a few feet behind her. Instead, she was speaking softly in a language he could not decipher. Suddenly, she stood and whirled around, her expression unreadable.

"You killed them Jack Sparrow!" she screamed, and he took a step back with a stupefied look on his face. "You killed them all! You killed Will—a friend! You killed a _friend_!"

The dark haired man's face flashed in an emotion that Elizabeth couldn't define. Anger, but regret hinted as well? She couldn't help but think that the Captain had planned this—after all, Will had been interfering with she and Jack's relationship. But at this thought, he mind reprimanded her.

There _was_ no relationship between them.

"Young missy," Jack snapped back at her, wrenching his eyes off her and out to where the _Lochinvar_ had once been. "Surely you cannot be laying the blame entirely on me, here? After all, Mr. Turner didn't see us here on the _Balinor_ either."

Elizabeth glared at him.

"I would have expected that the famous Captain Jack Sparrow would've been more intelligent than he has shown himself to be," she said with a tense look. "Crashing nearly headlong into his own ship, commanded by a friend, and—" she choked, "—killing him." The woman turned her back on him, and Jack pulled his pistol out, aiming at the back of her head without her notice. He clenched his teeth and slipped it back into its holster, and then strode off to calm himself.

"Blasted women!" he muttered once he was alone. "Nag, nag, nag! Can't never please 'em!" The pirate plopped down on the deck. "But oh, why'd you have to go like ye did right in front of her Will? Bloody stupid, you are! Bloody stupid I was," he added as an afterthought. Glancing to his right, Jack saw a loose board on the deck, and quite abruptly jabbed the heel of his boot against one end. The opposite end rose upward and revealed a collection of bottles of rum. Jack pulled one out and examined it intently. "'Ello lovely." An expression of adoration crossed his features, and he took a long swallow.

A moment later the _Balinor_ creaked and titled slightly, making its captain slide and drop his rum.

"What the blazes is going on?" he cried, managing to get his feet beneath him and chase clumsily after his rum. "Get back here y'devil! I won't lose you! No burning either! No lassies set on burnin' you up, I promise!"

To the watchful eye, the captain must have appeared quite drunk. Of course, being that he _was_ Captain Jack Sparrow, he likely _was_ drunk. He retrieved his precious drink, and then ran to see why the ship was tilting again. Gibbs was standing by the rail as he approached. The sails still lingered on the horizon where Jack had first seen them.

"Gentlemen!" he roared, and all those about the ship turned to look at him. "This is the third close call we've had with this here ship. And this is the third bit of luck that's found us. We cannot afford any more run-ins with other vessels." Jack paused, glancing around at the tired expressions on the men's faces. "An' that is precisely why we must continue on course to that ship out there."

The crew followed his pointing finger, and saw the sails. The majority of them didn't understand the logic that was Jack's, but not many of them were bold enough to question him. Besides, they had been under his command for long enough to know that he always had his reasons for doing what he did. The tilt of the ship was suddenly resolved, and Jack's face broke into a smirk.

"Well get on with it!" he commanded, gesturing wildly to the _Balinor_. His crew scuttled off to their duties, and the Captain quite suddenly found himself about to be slapped across the face by Elizabeth. Catching her hand and surprisingly them both, he was the first to speak. "Now before you hasten to hand me over to the Commodore and have me strung up by me neck, just listen for a sec!"

Elizabeth shot him a deathglare, but complied, reluctantly pulling her hand out of his grip. Jack's face split into a sly smile at seeing he was once again in control of her.

"Young William's fate is most regrettable," he began, casting his eyes downward. "And don't think for a minute that I'm being disrespectful by sailin' on to what I really wanted t'find. Missy, you and I both know Will would have hated to see us moping around because of him."

"So you're going after another ship that's probably dangerous, so we can _all_ get killed? Is that it, Captain Sparrow?" Elizabeth asked, tapping her foot in a very feminine manner. "You feel the need to try your luck a fourth time?"

Jack grinned.

"Aye."

"You're daft, Jack."

He leaned closer to her.

"Curiosity never was a sin, love," the man replied darkly, and Elizabeth had the distinct feeling he meant it in more ways than one. Their eyes met briefly, before Jack did a slight bow and walked back up to the helm. The sails still sat idly on the horizon.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: So here it is, another chapter, and I believe a slightly longer one at that. I decided to rewrite the handwritten chapter 8 I had in my notebook from camping, because I felt it would make the story feel rushed. And so, this is the product of a few days' time, and hopefully it will satisfy those who were annoyed by my lack of updates. Oh, and what was so suspicious about Gibbs in the previous chapter? I had a few inquiries about him, and I intended nothing in making him go off to search for Will. Anywho, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I'm really getting sick of this.

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Elizabeth sat at her desk, a newly presented gift from Gibbs, which had been placed in one corner of her stateroom. An oil lamp had also been given to her, its globe clear and smoothly curved, its wick showing signs of only recently having been used for the first time. Presents for bringing luck to the ship, Gibbs had told her, but he had smiled only faintly. At her inquiring expression he had explained that after so many incidents with near-sinking, she appeared to have done just the opposite of his once fierce superstition. Although shocked at his sudden conversion of faith, Elizabeth had been pleased with the gifts. She had much missed her desk at her home back in Port Royal, and had been missing the solidity of it beneath any paper she might have wished to write upon.

She was now diligently working on a painting of Will, which was done so entirely by memory. She was grateful now that she had taken so much time in the past to observe his face and figure, and his sheer masculinity. Focus was laid particularly on the honey-colored eyes of the portrait. Try as she might, however, she could not seem to get the expression they had always held to the right extreme. Swirling, golden-flecked orbs, into which she could have once lost herself. But no more.

It had been two days since the sinking of the _Lochinvar_, and the young blacksmith's death. She still had trouble believing that he was truly _gone_. Yet she hadn't cried, as she had when her mother had been murdered. A part of her felt an intense buildup of guilt at that fact. She owed Will her tears, at the very least. But then another part of her reminded her that his death was not the same. He had not been murdered, as her mother had. Will had been a victim of circumstance, unpredictable, unrelenting circumstance, and there was nothing that may have been done to prevent it. And yet another part of her disagreed, screaming that it was Jack's fault, and that he was to blame.

_Jack_.

'Regrettable,' he had said, but in a tone suggesting he was not at all bothered by the loss of the boy and his crew. But in his eyes, Elizabeth had observed something that could not be taken for anything but what he had stated. Regret. Plain and simple and horribly genuine. Perhaps he had only been trying to steel himself against emotional breakdown for her sake. It was doubtful, she reasoned, but entirely possible. Pirate or not, he knew where certain actions were necessary, and where they were not.

She sighed deeply, and put her paintbrush aside. Her forehead rested in one hand, and her eyes closed. She hated not having anyone to blame for what had happened, but she really could not blame Jack. He wasn't a god, she reminded herself.

She stood up a few minutes later, and slid the wet painting ever so carefully into the largest drawer of the desk, and rinsed the paintbrush before placing it alongside the portrait. The air in the hall as she stepped out of her room was stale and stifling, but was soon replaced by the scented air of a night at sea. The deck was calm, as most of the crew were sleeping; only a few remained out and about, going about the night duties of sailing the vessel.

There was no moon, she observed from her place at the rail, but the brightness of the stars made up for its absence. They reflected in the water, and Elizabeth was enveloped by the feeling of being between two worlds, between earth and sky, and the semblance of being completely, utterly free. But she was not. She was trapped in another place, a place existing on the delicate line betwixt what was real and what was not. Leaning heavily on the wooden railing of the faithful _Balinor_, she breathed deeply, hoping to clear her mind of some of its troubles.

She sensed another body suddenly near to her, and a hand befell her shoulder, but she did not turn around. The faint smell of rum mingled with the salty air, making her snort in realization. She had neither seen nor spoken to the Captain since the day of William's death, and in all sincerity, she hadn't been bothered by it. But now, knowing he was there behind her, and knowing he would comfort her if need be, Elizabeth was overcome by an immense wave of relief.

"I got to thinkin' you were going to be staying in that cabin forever," he whispered gently into her ear, and she finally turned to look at him. "An' I couldn't have that, you know."

She allowed his other hand to stray to her face and rest there, and his eyes to capture her own and search them silently.

"I know what you're thinking, love," the Captain voiced, and Elizabeth moved to stare at the deck, but a finger lifted her chin until she was once again trapped under his dark gaze.

"You couldn't possibly have the slightest idea what it is I'm thinking, Captain Sparrow," she spat bitterly, through lightly clenched teeth. "I'm feeling things right now that you would never dream of feeling. Strictly due to upbringing," she added as an explanation, and the man's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

Releasing her, Jack stepped up to the rail beside her, and sighed.

"You've never heard the story, 'ave you love?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"What story are we talking about?"

The captain sighed again, and removed his hat, taking a long moment to scrutinize and reshape it, before placing it once again upon his head.

"When I was a few years younger, there was a lass I met in Tortuga. Bright girl, quite intelligent, she was, and entirely good to look at. I'd met her while searchin' for me first crew—not the one ol' Gibbs there told you about—but a different one. Anyhow, she was younger, a lot younger than I, so we never would have been romantically interested in one another, but we became close anyway." He paused, staring at the glittering waters for a moment before continuing. "Her mother had died when she was born, and her father was an outright bastard. Sold 'er into prostitution, he did, so he could buy his own pleasurable company. Now, I didn't find this out from her, but from my soon to be first mate."

Elizabeth's eyes swung in either direction in thought.

"Barbossa," she declared an instant later, and Jack nodded.

"Once he told me this, o' course, I went back to the pub where I'd seen her the first time, hopin' I would see her yet again. I guess you could say I pitied the girl, only a young teen at the time, and already forced to act like a woman. Maybe I was hoping she'd agree to come with me on my ship. Well, I didn' find her at the pub, and asked around a bit t' see if anyone knew where she mighta been. A gentlemen told me her father had come to retrieve her, claiming she'd run off years ago and he'd been worried sick, and the like. No one knew where he'd taken her, so I merely wandered the streets for a few days, till I eventually found her curled up next to an old wooden bench."

Elizabeth remained silent as the captain continued on.

"She was dyin', I knew," he said, his voice low. "I'd no doubt in me mind what that excuse for a father had done to her, and I was ready to kill him for it. But I couldn't. I'd needed to keep my profile low if I wanted to find me a crew to sail with. The poor girl could barely lift her head to look at me. Wouldn'ta made the night, and it woulda been a death drawn out much longer than need be. So I took out me pistol and loaded it, and put it right up next to her temple and pulled the bloody trigger."

Jack clenched his teeth, and Elizabeth stood, transfixed by what he had just told her. She'd never thought the captain would do such a thing—she'd expected him to tell of how he had saved the girl and brought her on his ship, or at the very least that he had left her there with a few comforting words. But not that. Blinking, she spoke.

"Like an animal, Jack," she whispered gravely, not looking at him.

"Aye," he replied, removing his pistol from the holster and examining it, lost in thought. "Put her out like a stallion with a broken leg, I did. Couldn't stand to see her like she was." His eyes settled on Elizabeth's, and he slipped the gun back into its casing. "So don't you ever think I woulda killed young Will on purpose. What I did to that girl that night troubles me even today, and I would never do it again, no matter what the circumstances. I never kill unless I have to."

"Seems similar to what happened on the _Pearl_," Elizabeth breathed, wrenching her eyes away from his piercing gaze. "It was all I could think about until we found you again."

"You did what's right by you," the man said quietly, stepping closer to her and lifting her chin for the second time that night. "And besides—I didn't entirely mind it." His face split into a toothy grin, and she glared at him in annoyance.

"You're bold, Captain Sparrow," the woman said darkly, moving her head so that he was no longer supporting her chin.

"Am I, now?" he smirked knowingly, taking another step closer to her and cautiously letting one hand rest on her waist. The other moved up to her face once more, and he brushed his fingers lightly across her cheek, and then settled them with a firm grip on the back of her neck. A stray lock of Jack's dark, coarse hair blew in his face, and Elizabeth found herself compelled to brush it away, and she did. The pirate's eyes gleamed mischievously under her touch, knowing that soon she would be so engaged in what was occurring that she wouldn't protest to him sweeping her off to his quarters. "You're quite bold yourself, love," he whispered into her ear, his hot breath bringing goose bumps to the surface of her flesh.

Every word he said was spoken with the obvious intent of seduction, Elizabeth realized. Guilt would not allow her to become a victim of Jack's manipulative, cunning nature, however. She was not about to kiss any man so soon after Will's death, let alone Jack Sparrow. She started to pull away, telling herself she _needed_ to get away, but the pirate who held her quite obviously had other plans.

"Why so anxious, Miss Elizabeth? Or are you merely excited at the prospect of what might occur this moonless night?" Jack asked, gesturing to the sky as his velvety voice washed over her in waves. He smiled inwardly at her flabbergasted expression.

"What on earth are you talking about?" she spat stupidly, trying to pull away, but succeeding only in tripping herself, and causing them both to go tumbling to the hard wooden deck of the ship. Jack was atop her, grinning down as he planted a strong arm on either side of her head, effectively keeping her trapped beneath him. "I am in no way _anxious_ to be here, nor am I excited at _any_ prospects you may have to offer! You're a mangy, grimy, dishonest pirate and I demand you free me this instant!" she cried, trying to push him off, but to no avail.

"You're not really in a position to be 'demanding' me to do anything, love," the man informed her, his grin never fading as her face became flushed. "Unless of course you were demanding—"

"Jack Sparrow! I'm appalled at you!" the woman squawked, offended. "After all that's happened, you still seem to convince yourself that you are what I want, and you're entirely incorrect about that! And I can't breathe!" She stopped struggling, exhaling heavily, and stared him long and hard in the face.

"I don't need to convince myself, darling," he cooed comically. "The compass did that for me a long time ago. And as for not being able to breathe…how is it you're speaking to me then?" He shifted so as not to let her escape as his hand produced the very compass of which he spoke. Elizabeth cringed, knowing that if it showed him as her deepest desire, she would never live it down. "Come, come, deary. Just take a peek in and see what it shows." He placed it before her, and craned his head around to see it also. The needle did just as it had done before, spinning for a moment, before coming to rest on the man above her. A smile split his expression nearly in two.

Elizabeth averted her eyes angrily, and with a final great shove, relinquished hold on her plan of not allowing anything to happen that night. Jack's superior strength was apparent, for although Elizabeth was female, she was uncharacteristically strong, but the pirate barely moved at her attempts to push him off. "I told you that compass is broken," she muttered weakly, but Jack only chuckled.

"Are you certain of that? Because it seems to me that it's been working properly for longer than either of us have ever wanted it to."

"And by 'either of us' you mean me," Elizabeth grumbled, refusing to look at him.

The pirate's eyes widened thoughtfully.

"No, actually. Longer than I've wanted it to as well. The first time it swung toward a male I nearly threw it overboard."

There was a dead silence, followed by a very abrupt and definite, "I shouldn't have told you that," and an immediate change of subject.

"In the meantime, however, I do believe we should both get back to bed, as I can see you're going to be testy tonight, and I'd rather stay out of your way at such a time," the captain said with a smile, standing up, and pulling the woman to her feet also. She gave him another hard glare, before stomping off to her stateroom once again.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Long, and I hate it. That's about it. Thanks for reviewing though!

"How the bloody hell does he keep managing to do this to me?"

Upon waking up in the morning, Elizabeth Swan had been visited by the thought of Jack Sparrow, where he was, what he was doing, and if he was thinking about her. She hadn't enjoyed the thoughts once she was fully conscious and realized just what images her mind was dishing out. And so she had resorted to quarrelling with herself, and out loud, at that.

"He can't keep his hands to himself! Not that I didn't enjoy—He's a bloody pirate! Horrible and distasteful and—and a pirate!"

She stamped her foot on the floor and then stormed out of the room, out onto the deck. The Captain was nowhere in sight, much to her relief, as she glanced up at the crow's nest. No one was present in it, and after another quick glance to be sure no one was around to see her, Elizabeth scaled the mast and climbed into the box. Gazing into the distance, she was still able to see the ships sails on the horizon, and realized that for the number of days they had been sailing, the sails should have been coming closer to them. But they were not. Instead they merely sat placidly on that same particular spot on the line between earth and sky, and this worried the girl. Turning her head slightly farther to the right, she saw something even more surprising: land. An island, perhaps, but one which harbored life and civilization. She wondered if the Captain had been planning on pulling into port there the entire time.

The ship swayed a bit, and something rolled into her foot. A telescope. Picking it up, she extended it, although with a bit of trouble, and then admired the magnified view it produced. It appeared as though the island was very much inhabited; people were scuttling all over the beach and port, and pushing through crowds to stop at what she assumed to be food carts, or some other form of good. The thought then occurred to her that perhaps the ship to which the unmoving sails belonged, was in fact anchored farther out to sea. Still, if it were, it would have been even more likely that the _Balinor_ was moving closer to it, which it quite obviously was not. The young woman was so entranced by her newfound toy, that she didn't notice any words of awe she might have spoken, nor did she notice the appearance of a rather familiar figure below her.

"As much as I hate to interrupt your evident pleasure, I must ask that you come down from there this very moment, and adorn your lovely ladylike figure in some more…ladylike attire." The Captain stood where she could see him now, and he looked up at her with an expression that neither hid, nor truly revealed whatever it was he may have been thinking as he stood there. "We are to go ashore, and stay ashore for a wee bit, and I'll not have you prancing about in sailors' clothing, no matter how comfortable they may be, whilst _Captain_ Jack Sparrow accompanies you. You will also want to gather any other effects which you feel you will need for the next day or so, and then you are to meet myself and the crew right on this very spot I stand." He stamped his foot once on the hard deck to indicate which spot he meant, and then swaggered off, a bottle of rum somehow managing to find its way into his hand. Elizabeth stared after him, curious as to how he had appeared so suddenly, without her notice, and then started to climb down, telescope in hand. "And please, if you will, leave the splendiferous pulley-lookey-thingy behind," his voice rang out, from wherever he now was, and Elizabeth dropped it back into the crow's nest, and continued down.

Jack was gone again, and she cast a last look at the approaching land before turning on her way to her stateroom. She didn't really have much she would have liked to bring ashore, with the exception of her clothes and her paints, perhaps. But considering she didn't possess an easel, there wasn't a whole lot of point to bringing her paints along. Besides, she didn't know what Jack needed to stop at port for—maybe he would need her help with something. And so, she elected to bring a few simple outfits along, annoyed that the Captain was making her leave the oh-so-comfortable men's clothing behind. Without a proper bag in which to store her clothes, her pillowcase would have to do. She stuffed her chosen outfits into the silk covering, and then slipped into an older, faded violet dress.

There was a great commotion aboard the vessel as they neared the port. Jack was apparently playing it safe, however, for the anchor was already dropped and the ship was well out from the docks. Elizabeth's eyes scanned the ship. Everything was suddenly lively, and she found it was a nice change from the steady routine of maintaining the ship while it was sailing through open waters. The crewmembers seem to have felt it too; many of them were smiling and laughing and clashing together oddly shaped bottles of rum, spilling the liquid over the sides.

She made her way to where the crew was gathering, beneath the crow's nest, and quite suddenly found the Captain giving orders in a deep, commanding tone.

"Gentlemen! In case none of you have noticed just what place it is we have arrived at…I would like to welcome you all to Isle de Avia, home port of this here good ship," he bellowed, patting the mast of the _Balinor_ affectionately. "A bit like Tortuga, she is, but slightly less…anarchic. As for why we be pulling into such a fine port as herself—Some of you might have observed that we're running a wee bit low on rum. And food, of course," he added as an afterthought. There was a rumble of acknowledgment through the group. "So we'll be spending a day or more on land, gathering rum—and supplies—and so long as you scabrous dogs return with needed items, you're free to roam and do as you please. Now! Let down the…tiny…boaties!" He swung his cutlass threateningly at the crew, who immediately hurried to get the rowboats into the water. Turning to Elizabeth, he sheathed the cutlass, and raised an eyebrow at her. "Your things together, love?"

"Yes," she answered, shaking the pillowcase in gesture.

"Very good then. Find yourself a boat then, and hop to it—they fill fast." He turned on his heel and tottered off, humming to himself.

Elizabeth glowered after him, and then hurried toward the boat Gibbs and Cotton were nearest to. Gibbs held the boat while she stepped into it, next to a few crewmen she was not familiar with. One of them stood and took her shoulder to steady her, and one of the others took her pillowcase of clothes.

"Watch yer step Miss Elizabeth," Gibbs cautioned her, in a gentlemanly way. Once she was settled in the boat, some more crewmembers swung over the edge and into it also, and finally, once it was full, Gibbs and Cotton. Cotton sat next to her, his parrot on the shoulder closest to her, and she looked at it curiously.

"Hello," she said, speaking to the parrot, not the man on whose shoulder it was perched. The bird tilted its head and scrutinized her, as did Cotton, and then it reached out and bit the tip of her nose—hard. The young woman jumped back in surprise, rubbing her throbbing nose, and Cotton gave the bird a hard glare. A moment later, he moved to the other side of the boat, and took the place of the man who had been rowing. Behind them, Jack Sparrow rowed his own boat, staying well back, and beyond his boat was another. Elizabeth noted that a few men remained on the _Balinor_, probably to make certain it wasn't commandeered. When they reached the shore, Gibbs was the first one out, and helped Elizabeth onto the dock just after him. Cotton handed her the pillowcase, which she took, careful not to let it fall into the murky waters.

Jack tied his boat to the opposite side of the dock and hopped out, and, not bothering to wait for any of the crew, strode off, looking entirely set on reaching wherever it was he was destined. None of the crew paid much attention, save for Elizabeth, who scurried after him and then stepped in his path, forcing him to halt. He looked at her, obviously surprised, and then gently moved her out of his way with one hand. He continued walking, until she ran up to him and grabbed his wrist.

"The hull is nearly bursting with every food imaginable," Elizabeth declared, confronting him. "And the drink stocks are plenty. We didn't dock here for rum, did we Jack?"

The pirate stared at her for a moment, as if in a trance, before nodding and answering, "No."

Elizabeth glared at him with a hard expression on her face.

"Then what exactly are we doing here, _Captain_ Sparrow?"

He started walking again, gesturing for her to follow. When they reached the end of the dock he threw an arm out to stop her in her tracks.

"We're here, love, because your Captain is needing to gather some outside information on that ship we've been seein' out there. And Isle de Avia is the only port that might have the information he be looking for." He smirked, and then pulled her close enough so that he could whisper in her ear. "I'll find you tonight, darling. I promise you that." Elizabeth felt a twinge of fear shoot through her body as those words left his lips. She gathered the distinct impression that he was suggesting much more than he had intended her to understand. Well, she would just need to stay away from the infamous Captain Sparrow for the night—or at least be certain she wasn't alone with him. But could she really distance herself from him? After all, she had tried to do so numerous times, but to no avail.

"No promises needed, Captain Sparrow," she mumbled, her voice quaking slightly. "I'll be just fine, even if you don't find me." She hoped he would take the hint she had given him, but he merely smiled again and leaned closer to her again.

"I don't break these sorts of promises."

Elizabeth inhaled sharply. Apparently he hadn't taken the hint. He released her and walked off briskly once again, but this time Elizabeth didn't follow. She watched him pivot on his heel down a street to the right, and after waiting a bit, she did the same to the left. She would spend the rest of the afternoon wandering the streets and admiring the architecture, goods, and souvenirs. Perhaps she would even buy something. Upon turning down another street, she came across a man attempting to tow a heavy crate into a back door of one of the shops. He stopped what he was doing and looked up curiously when he noticed her shadow.

"Mornin' miss," he greeted, brushing his hands off and then giving a low bow. When he righted himself again, his eyes took in her appearance. "What's a fine woman such as yerself doin' out here all alone, eh?"

Elizabeth stared at him briefly before answering.

"I—I'm not alone," she blurted out, rather stupidly. Realizing her mistake, she quickly corrected herself. "I mean, at the moment, yes, it would appear I am alone. But in all reality I am in fact accompanied by another, that is I am _not_ alone, except for at this very moment, and the one who accompanies me is—"

"Right here," came a voice from behind her. Elizabeth spun around to see Jack standing just a few feet away, one hand on his hip and the other resting placidly on the butt of his pistol, which remained hidden, unseen, beneath his baggy shirt. She was incredibly grateful—he had ended her senseless—and unnervingly Jack-like—babbling. He took two steps forward, and came to stand close behind and slightly to one side of her. "I was just taking her on a bit of a shopping spree," he told the man, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Ah," the other man replied simply, and then muttered a 'good day,' and went back to his work. Jack placed one hand firmly on Elizabeth's shoulder, and led her away, never letting go of her. When she looked back, he squeezed her shoulder and shook her slightly.

"Don't look back, love," he said quietly. "Don't ever look back. Not in this town. Someone thinks you looked at them the wrong way and you're as good as done for. An' being a lady does no good at all." He led her to a building a little ways away, and then ducked inside, the girl in tow. They trod up the stairs and into what looked to be an upstairs apartment type area, and he turned around to face her.

"What is this place?" she asked him, gesturing with her eyes to the room around them.

"That's not important. What is important, however, is that you stay here, and _do not wander_. I thought you'd be following me when I left at the dock there, but when I looked and you weren't there, I close to panicked." He looked sternly at her, and then started to leave.

"Jack—Dare I ask—What is it that has you so spooked?"

The pirate didn't answer for a long moment.

"There's more than just beasties here, love." His eyes flashed in some unknown emotion, and with that said, he hurried back down the stairs and out the door.

Elizabeth sighed, frustrated, and plopped down on a couch. He couldn't expect her to stay locked up in here for the rest of the day. He knew better than that. Still though, his statement was slightly disturbing. Anything that Jack found worrisome must be worthy of just that. Perhaps she really should listen to him for once.

A sudden memory changed her mind immediately.

"_A little mermaid flopped up on deck and told him the whole story!"_

Jack Sparrow was not to be trusted. She had to find out just what it was he was up to, and she needed to do it as quietly as possible. Uncertain if there were others downstairs that might have heard the pirate commanding her to stay put, Elizabeth crept silently down the stairs, and checked around the wall to see if anyone else was there. There were people outside, she noticed, however. She couldn't risk going out through the front door. Besides, he had probably locked it, or something of the sort.

Making her way around the downstairs section of the building, she came across another door, which opened into a back alley. There was no one in sight. The young woman opened it cautiously, surprised to find that it wasn't locked. Stepping outside, the few shafts of sunlight present hit her like a ton of bricks, making her blink rapidly until her eyes adjusted to the light. Closing the door behind her, she walked down past a few buildings before cutting through another alley and back into the street. She didn't see any sign of the captain, but continued walking. There was plenty of activity about to keep her interested in her surroundings.

As she neared a corn vendor and his cart, she suddenly caught a glimpse of a figure with a swaggering walk, and ducked behind them. The vendor shouted at her in another language, but she paid him no attention. Her eyes rested on Jack as he stumbled up some stairs and into another building. She ducked closer, making certain she was out of view of the window where she could see him standing, and approached the building. The pirate was shaking hands with another man, and then disappeared into the back of the—'Dark Horse Pub'—Elizabeth read from the sign. Deciding she didn't want to risk entering the building and being seen, she sat down on a bench hidden by some overgrown shrubs, and waited.

It was night by the time Elizabeth awoke, and realized just what she had done. She sat up, having slid down as she'd slept, and glanced around. Looking in through another window, Elizabeth realized she could see Jack again, sitting at a table with the same man, talking and guzzling rum. His hands gestured wildly about as his lips moved, which she tried with no success to read. The only other time she had heard of Jack entering a pub had been when he was inquiring as to whether or not Gibbs would help him gather a crew for his journey to reclaim the _Pearl_. She assumed he would be making a proposition of some sort this night.

"'Ello there, missy!" came a rough voice quite suddenly from nearby. A tall, imposing man stepped into Elizabeth's field of view. He had dark hair, which rested comfortably at his shoulders. It was thin and wispy, giving the appearance of him having been slashed by numerous windstorms. His face was hard and his eyes cold, as he reached for her hand.

Elizabeth jerked it away before he touched it, but when she did so he reached out with his other hand to catch her other wrist. He pulled her harshly into a standing position and in the next moment she felt the telltale warning of a steel barrel resting ever so tauntingly at her temple. The man backed her into the nearest alley, holding both her wrists behind her back and the gun at her head, making sure she wouldn't escape. In her mind, Elizabeth was cursing herself for not trusting Jack. He had never given her much reason not to trust him—at least, when it came to these matters. And now, here she was, not one-hundred feet from the building in which he was sitting, about to be taken against her will and likely shot dead when the man was finished with her. When _would_ she learn?

The man shoved her roughly to her hands and knees, laughing maniacally as he did so.

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," Elizabeth growled from her place on the ground, wary of the pistol still trained on her.

"And just what might that be, lovely?" the man chuckled, his gruff voice frightening her.

"The fact that I have numerous friends about this here village, and that if you kill me, you'll only succeed in angering them _severely_. Whereas if you let me go now, you'll have my word that I won't say a thing about this little incident, and we'll both be happy and worry-free." She didn't know just was exactly she was doing, but her only instinct was to stall him.

"Well then I'll say it's a right good thing I ain't goin' to be killin' ye then, eh? At least, not yet, I mean," he replied, putting his boot on her back and pressing her to the ground. "Or maybe I'll just kill ye right here an' now and nobody'll know the difference." He cocked the pistol, setting it at the back of her head.

Quite abruptly, a loud thud was heard and the pistol dropped from the man's hand. He fell on top of Elizabeth, but was there only for as long as it took her to get her feet beneath her and stand. Jack Sparrow and the man he had been speaking with stood there, both looking at the man on the ground curiously.

"Not very friendly," Jack said to the unconscious man with a tilt of his head. "These are the men that should be strung up by the necks—the ones that treat woman like this." He spoke now to his companion, and then finally met Elizabeth's alarmed eyes. "Mr. Recor, if you'd be so kind…" The captain nodded in a manner, which the other—Mr. Recor—took to mean he was expected to leave. He did so, and once gone, Elizabeth found herself alone with an angry pirate.

"I'm sorry—" the girl began, but he cut her off.

"Back to the inn, love," he said quietly, lowering his gaze. "We'll talk there."

There was a sort of disappointment in his voice that Elizabeth couldn't quite understand. She'd known he'd be upset if he had caught her, but disappointment was an emotion she was totally unprepared for. Even so, she followed him, an awkward silence hanging in the air the entire way back. By the time they reached the inn, and he opened the door for her, she felt full blown shame for what she had done. Up the stairs and into the room with the couch was where Elizabeth found herself going, but Jack insisted the go in the nearby bedroom, lest anyone hear them. This statement frightened her a bit, but she did as he asked.

Upon entering, Jack seated himself in a chair, and Elizabeth on the bed, being careful to brush what was left of the dirt from her dress as she sat down.

"That is precisely why I told you to stay here," the man grumbled from his seat, looking at the woman before him. "But I guess one can never trust a pirate."

"Jack!" Elizabeth cried, shaking her head. "That's not the case at all!"

"Well you seemed to do a bloody fine job of making it appear so."

"It's not…you, Jack. It's that blasted thing I call my conscience. It…conflicts…among other things," she said softly, looking at the floor. "And I was curious."

"Ah," the man whispered, standing up. "Yes, the mind conflicts with many other parts of the human body. The heart, perhaps?" He was standing nearer to her now, and she also stood. "Oh, and I may have told you before; curiosity never _was_ a sin."

Elizabeth locked eyes with him, having to look upward only slightly, for he was not much taller than she. For a moment she felt certain her was going to kiss her, and she instinctively tried to pull away, but he didn't.

"I almost lost you tonight, Elizabeth," Jack's raspy voice informed her gently, still gazing at her. "I already have one recent death on my mind. I don't need another. And particularly yours, love." He trailed his fingers across her face, brushing a strand of hair from her eye, and then crushed his lips against hers.

There was a desperation in his kiss, as if he had never needed anything so much as what he was getting from her that very moment. Elizabeth was powerless to stop him, as he pressed her down on her back and against the soft mattress, one hand supporting her head, and the other keeping him from crushing her beneath his heavier weight. Her mind backtracked to his admission that he had been thinking about Will's death. He _was_ a good man, she realized, even if he himself did not, and her heart immediately went out to him. How could she have not seen him for the man he truly was? He was a man who loved the sea and the freedom that came with it, but he was also a man who had never had a choice in the matter. Nothing else had been given to him to love.

But did he love her? Her main concern vanished when he deepened the kiss, knowing that even if he didn't love her just yet, he _wanted_ her. And that was good enough for her. The compass had shown them what they each desired most, even if they denied it. As Jack had told her, the mind was well known for conflicting with the heart. She only thought once of Will, understanding now what Jack had meant when he had told her Will wouldn't have wanted them to be moping around on his account. Will had seen the events of that day on the _Black Pearl_, and in her heart, Elizabeth had known all along that Will may have won her, but she would never have cared for him in the way she cared for Jack.

It was a startling revelation, and slightly cruel at that, but she didn't care. Her hands found the buttons of his shirt and undid them, one at a time, savoring the feel of them beneath her fingers. The offending shirt was removed, and thrown to the floor, and Elizabeth was shocked to utter silence by what she saw.

The pirate's skin was tanned a deep beige, the result of years in the sunlight, and a great number of scars divided his body into well-defined sectors. There were two round scars near his collarbone, and another, more recent looking one, which ran the width of his body just below these. She traced it with one finger and he shuddered slightly, obviously still sore. She looked up into his dark eyes inquiringly.

"Bumped the rail during that storm," he answered with a smile. "Nothing more."

"You did more than bump it to get a mark such as that," she whispered, in awe. Each mark held a story, much as a library is with its books. She wanted to know all of them, but was distracted when he kissed her again.

"Now it's time to play fair," he said softly, and gripped a section of her dress.

Elizabeth shuddered violently, suddenly nervous and wanting to stop. Jack must have detected her fear, because he released the dress to cup her face in his palms. As he stared into her eyes, she thought she saw a shadow pass behind them.

"I promise you, love, you'll be fine. All you need to do is play fair." He smiled gently and kissed her, and then moved his hands back to slip the dress off of her slim body. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment when she realized he was now seeing her with only her undergarments on, and when the captain laughed, they grew even redder. "Calm, deary. You're just lovely."

The young woman visibly relaxed beneath him, as he trailed gentle kisses down her neck and shoulders, and closer to her chest. Elizabeth's fingers played with the belt of his sailor's pants, unclasping the buckle and tossing it aside. She was amazed to see yet more scars appear on his muscled torso, and with every movement the light caught on yet another. There were numerous scars from bullet wounds—and it frightened her.

Within a few minutes, both their undergarments were removed, and again Elizabeth's face grew red, but again Jack reassured her, and she calmed.

"I'm not about to go any further without your consent, Elizabeth, but if you don't tell me to stop right now, I'm not going to be able to," the pirate breathed, resting his forehead on her own. "And I been meaning to ask ye—Have you ever…?"

Elizabeth bit her lip and shook her head, nervous again. She tensed, and he felt it, silently cursing himself for not just going ahead.

"I won't judge, love. Just say the words, and we'll stop right here. Pirate or not, I'm not one to force things upon such a fine specimen of the female species." He grinned, and Elizabeth chuckled.

"Whether it's now or later, it's going to happen sometime," she answered, steeling her nerves. "Might as well be now."

Apparently that was good enough for Jack Sparrow, for he kissed her fiercely, and continued.


End file.
